For John, it came down to a question of trust.

Did he trust Turne? Not a chance in hell.

Which is why he done his best to make sure Evan had every ounce of protection he could, without Turne's knowledge. The Major still wore the TAC vest over his borrowed clothing, but the pockets were empty of everything save for extra clips for the M9 tucked precariously between his shoulder blades. Nothing for Michael to use against him.

Turne had seen the knife in the Major's boot, so if it came down to a believability issue, Turne could turn him over for the knife. The Beretta would hopefully remain hidden until Evan needed it.

John knew it was a dangerous chance they were taking. He also knew the Major understood the underlying need to take Michael down. They had no time to plan anything more than a few agreed upon signals.

But it all came down to a question of trust.

Did he trust Evan? Hell yes.

The cloaked jumper hovered above the Major and his supposed captor, Turne, as the two men marched through the tall grass towards the narrow plateau. The shallows, as Turne had called it, was a dead patch of rocky ground jutting two dozen feet up from a field of waist high grass. Wide enough to land several jumpers, it was flat and rugged, barren of vegetation. John held his breath, the focus of his eyes shifting from Evan, to the plateau, to the HUD.

John couldn't leave Evan with a radio, but he had assured the Major he'd be in position short of death, and even then he'd haunt the damn place if he had to.

Evan's arms were pulled behind him, his wrists wrapped in a thick rope. The ropes were twisted so a pull from anyone would show them as binding, but with a deft twist, Evan could be free in a fraction of time. Time enough to get to that M9. At least that was the plan.

Turne followed behind the Major, the wraith stunner they'd appropriated from Marne pointed directly at Evan's back. In a private conversation right before they'd left, John had made sure that Turne understood the implications of a double cross. To both the man himself, his wife, and the village. He only hoped Turne wasn't any kind of actor, because the man's fear and understanding had been pretty believable.

He felt Ronon's tension as the Satedan stood in the doorway between compartments. As Evan and Turne reached the narrow path that climbed to the top of the short rise, Rodney's breath caught.

John didn't need to look to know what McKay was seeing, as Michael's dart rose from behind the plateau, hovering in its slick form.

They'd known Michael was there… the temptation to slip around and blow him to hell ate at them all. But there were hybrids were on the ground. Scattered in amongst the grass. They could destroy the dart, but the hybrids would likely kill Evan in response. It wasn't a trade John was willing to make.

The dart crossed over the two men below, and a half-dozen hybrids rose from the grass to follow Evan and Turne, circling around them like a secret service escort.

Reaching the flat surface of the rocky outcropping, Turne and Evan halted in the center, all eyes turned towards the landing dart.

Ronon's low growl summed it up for all of them.

Michael.

With a flourish Michael exited the dart, the leather coat sliding around his legs as he strode towards the gathered group. Two hybrids moved to flanking positions, their eyes on the far side of the plateau.

John glanced over his shoulder at Teyla, who sat in the seat behind Sanchez. Teyla nodded to John, her face calm under the force of concentration as she shielded herself from Michael. Blocked him from finding her. From sensing her. From seeing she was here with them all. Because if he did… it would be game over for Evan.

Sliding back towards the edge of the plateau, John waited.

And John Sheppard hated waiting.

"Ahh." Michael smiled… slow and maniacal… his golden, cat-like eyes conveying the evil that lurked beneath. "Major Lorne. How nice of you to join us."

Evan kept his breath steady, his body flexing while his muscles waited his command. He knew he'd have only a fraction of a second to make any move, and if he was wrong…

Michael stepped into the circle of hybrids.

"Mikey." Evan scowled, the urge to smash the man in the face overwhelming. God he'd caused so much pain… Teyla… Carson…

Michael glared at Evan, then shifted his gaze to Turne. "Only one?" He hissed.

Turne nodded furiously. "The others… t-t-they were caught in the water…"

Evan channeled his anger into what he hoped would come off as fury at the death of his team mates. He obviously succeeded when Michael tipped his head back and laughed. "Ahh." He lowered his chin. "That is… unfortunate."

Evan lurched forward, his progress halted by two hybrids. Michael laughed again. "I have almost forgotten how much fun you are. You humans. Such… emotional creatures."

Evan struggled, careful to keep his wrists clamped tightly together. As long as the hybrids held his arms, he'd be unable to reach the gun. No gun, no blowing the evil bastards head off. But he needed to finish what he'd come to start.

"You're a dead man walking, Michael." He knew the use of the Earth name irked the Wraith, so he used it with purpose. "We're coming for you. We're tracking you down… lab by lab… You're getting over confident. Must be your human nature leaking out."

Michael's backhand wasn't completely unexpected, but the strength of it was a little bit of a surprise. Evan's head rang and things tilted sharply. For a moment he was sort of glad he had a few hands holding him up. He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs. The two hybrids near the dart had half-turned, but they weren't fully facing their boss yet.

Evan spat blood onto the ground and smirked. "You hit like a girl."

When he got his breath back, he was sprawled on his back, the sharp, kicking pain in his chest announcing more than one rib was well bruised, maybe even cracked or broken. He'd have a hell of a bruise between the shoulder blades as well… if he lived to bruise that was. But at least he'd completed his task.

The hybrids had moved closer.

"Shit Major," John hissed as he dropped the cloaked jumper towards the grass directly behind the dart. "I said distraction, not get yourself killed."

As soon as they were down John was up and out the back behind Ronon, with Teyla and Rodney at his heels. With Sanchez at the controls, and Williams riding shotgun, the hatch closed and they lost sight of their ride.

Sanchez had his orders. If he blew the dart now, the shrapnel alone would kill the hybrids… and Evan. The only way Michael could get Evan off the planet would be to use the dart's culling device to beam them all up. Sanchez was going to have only one chance, and that was while Michael was in the air. And that one chance was all Evan would have at making it out of the circle alive. The hybrids would kill him as soon as they sensed the ambush.

As previously agreed, John and Rodney circled around the edge of the outcropping, while Ronon and Teyla covered the closest side.

Ducking through the grass, each moved up the rocky slope, fingers and feet finding purchase as they scrambled higher.

"Ah, Major." Michael laughed, standing over Evan. "I have indeed missed our… conversations. I will most certainly enjoy adding you to my… collection."

"Aww, gee." Evan grunted, rolling onto his side with a hiss of breath. Damn that hurt. "Not even dinner and a movie?"

Michael's boot caught Evan in the stomach and he cursed as the air left his body. Correction. That hurt more. Evan rolled onto his back, fighting for oxygen.

"You will learn respect soon enough." Michael snorted, spinning with a flourish. "Get him up." He ordered, striding to the dart. In a quick motion he was up and in the pilots seat. The canopy wavered into existence and sealed the cockpit. With a droning whine the craft was in the air.

Two hybrids yanked Evan to his feet and he knew time had come. Backup notwithstanding, he had to make his move now. Once Michael banked that dart around and triggered the culling beam it was game over. If the jumper shot down Michael after he'd picked them up… Evan wouldn't even know he'd died.

Straightening against the cramping in his abdomen he rolled his shoulders and unlocked his wrists, twisting them out of their rope binding.

The dart climbed, and began it's turn.

Dropping his weight and bracing his shoulder, Evan yanked his hands apart and dove for the nearest hybrid. In one fluid movement he spun, yanking the creature around in front of him like a shield. He bucked under the weight as the hybrid took several blasts in the chest from his companions. Reaching over his shoulder, Evan extracted his M9 and fired several shots into the back of the hybrid wrestling with Turne. The hybrid dropped and Turne stumbled, landing hard on his back in the dirt.

To his right, the jumper uncloaked, rising sharply in the air directly in front of the dart, blocking Michael's path to the plateau. The dart fired before banking sharply, the rocket blasting into the ground somewhere behind Evan, the explosion sending chunks of dirt and rock spewing into the air, and raining down on the subsequent firefight. Two hybrids fell almost instantly, the concussion wave from the blast knocking them sprawling.

Ronon and Teyla crested the hill, with John and Rodney firing from another side. Aiming at the retreating dart, Ronon sent a concussion of blasts into the air, cursing as Michael led the jumper away into the distance.

The two remaining hybrids hesitated, their confusion evident. Surrounded, outnumbered, and without a boss to give them direction, they were unsure of what to do next.

Ronon solved their dilemma by stunning them both.

"What?" He grunted, when Teyla lowered her P90 and glared at him.

She shook her head.

John walked quickly to the edge of the plateau, his hand to his com. "Do not follow, Captain. That's an order." Then he shook his head. "We don't know what kind of booby traps he's got set up on the other side."

Ronon hooked his hand under Evan's arm and helped the Major to his feet. "You were supposed to cause a distraction…" He chastised Evan.

Evan shrugged, and clutched his injured side. "It worked didn't it?"

"Break anything?" John returned, giving the Major a quick once over.

"Probably." Evan shrugged, then winced. "Michael?" He asked hopefully.

John frowned and shook his head. "Sanchez got a piece of him, but lost him through the gate." John stared over his shoulder into the distance and cursed.

With a shake of his head John looked around at the hybrids in the dirt at their feet. He sighed in disgust. It seemed that with Michael they were always close enough to touch, but never close enough to hold onto him.

John stepped over to Turne, who was staring down at one of the stunned hybrids, the stunner still tightly gripped in his hand. "Byron?" John asked.

Turne nodded. "Yes."

John clamped the man on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll see he's taken care of."

Turne blinked at John, his eyes a mix of sadness and hope. "You will keep your word? You will help after all I've… we've done?"

John stared back, dropping his hand. "Yes." He said simply.

"Why?"

"Because that's what we do."

He turned away, leaving Turne to stare at his retreating backside.

The jumper uncloaked and landed in the dirt on the far side of the plateau, the hatch already lowering. A long low rumble echoed above and eyes turned skyward.

"Just in time." Rodney muttered, hurrying towards the jumper.

"Come on." John headed towards the opening. "Let's get the Doc and go home."

"What about those guys?" Rodney made a face, pointing at the hybrids with the barrel of his P90.

John stopped and turned around, facing Turne, who was still staring at the hybrid.

"Turne." He called out.

The man looked up and over his shoulder.

"If they move, stun them again." John ordered. "Don't let them get up off the ground. As soon as we get our doctor home we'll send someone back to retrieve them."

Turne nodded, his eyes dropping back what was once his brother-in-law, but John noted the man's grip shifted on the blaster.

It would have to do.

"Colonel Sheppard, come in." Edison's voice crackled over the com as John slid into the pilot's seat Sanchez vacated.

"Go ahead."

As the last man, following Teyla up the ramp, Ronon triggered the hatch and stepped towards the front of the Jumper.

"Something's wrong with the Doc." Edison continued. "She's not breathing right and I can't wake her up."

John's heart skipped a beat, the tension level inside the jumper leaping with Edison's words.

"Get her down to the square." He ordered, his hands moving towards the controls. "We're on our way."

"Roger." Edison answered.

"Hold on." John ordered, the statement for the people in the jumper as he banked sharply to the right, pulling a one-eighty and skimming them across the treetops towards the village.

With a crack of thunder the sky opened and rain once again pelted the land below.

This planet sucked.